Smoke and Embers
by RadiantChaos
Summary: A forbidden love, an unknown birth, a chastity broken, and a fire sparked from a taboo of passion. Mothered by the Olympian flames of hope. Fathered by the flames of sin. Two paths lay ahead: a calm, focused, and peaceful flame or a scorching blaze of an inferno. A hero, a demon, and a legend. In the end, the fires will still burn.
1. Chapter 1

Fire.

Light, heat, blaze, and smoke. Those are the components of fire. Small pieces to the greatest creation ever invented. Created, for what purpose? For whatever fire's creator designated task was. But the task was always based on perspective, from what angle one viewed upon.

Fire could be the breath of life, filling energy and vigor to all sentient creatures. It could be the hands of creation from which anything and everything was born from. Fire could also be divine light, shining warmth and hope over the darkness of the universe. It can also be the destroyer, burning everything in sight to nothing but embers, leaving only ash in its wake.

But fire, it never changes, transforms, or shifts. Whenever it is called upon, it appears in nothing but its first, truest, and purest form, its original shape. Its alluring and exotic dance; calling all to watch its passionate and sensual performance. And no one tired of it.

Its movements were grace personified. It was so beautiful that it called to family, reaching out and bringing towards the all. The blaze burned away all disputes and brought them closer. The title they gave it… Hearth.

Within the country of Hellas, the people respected the hearth. They gave it offerings and sacrifice, hoping to appeal to it and it grant them peace and love for one another.

So once realizing the hearth's importance, they gave its mistress worship and praise. In times of need, her followers gathered around her hearth and cried out for her interference. They called her…

Hestia, Lady of Hearth.

But Hestia wasn't the only master of fire. In chaotic regions of the void, Allah was there. With fire in his hand, he separated it. From the light, bore the angels, his servants. From the smoke, bore the djinni. And from the blaze, bore shaiyateen.

Creating man from dust, Allah commanded the celestials to prostrate, worship, and love Adam before him. While all beings heeded their master's word, one did not. His name was Iblis.

Unlike his brothers and sisters, he refused Allah's decree. His pride and hubris wouldn't allow him to bow to inferior creatures. To him, Adam was nothing more than a hairless ape his father molded from clay and dust.

What separated him from the angels was his birth, the angels were born from light and sound while he was born of fire. He was meant for higher purposes than to serve Allah's illegitimate bastard.

Unlike the angels, Adam was granted Allah's gift. The gift of choice and decision, free-will. Iblis was enraged by this. The angels were his sons, his daughters, were they so low that they were denied his greatest gift in all of creation? Were they only thought of tools to do his bidding, his children? Even the djinni were granted this most wonderful gift. The answer was no.

Pleading with his brethren to stand by him, a fraction of Heaven and Iblis were banished from the skies. The only logical solution was to tame and master the shaiyateen, whose black and demonic nature coincided the Iblis' pride.

As vengeance against Allah for this injustice, Iblis snuck into Paradise in the form of a serpent and tempted Adam to partake in the forbidden fruit Allah forbade him against. Because of this disobedience, Allah exiled Adam and his children against Paradise for all eternity.

Satisfied with this, Iblis vowed to Allah to whisper into Adam's ear just as much as he did. To tempt man to forsake Allah's prophet's teachings. To give him the option of being his own god.

And so, Iblis' fire burned, it burned in the hearts of all of Adam's descendants. Pushing them to choose the sins born of Pride—of Iblis—then to chose Allah's virtues. With every new generation, the flames of Iblis grew and burned brighter. It turned the Allah's creation—the green and lush valleys and gardens filled with tranquil peace—into a blackened, charred wasteland, where death was the air and smoke filled the skies.

From how similar they wouldn't care to admit, it was only natural that these masters of the flame meet. And from the meeting of the goddess and her fallen angel sparked a love; that was every bit of forbidden as it was decadent.

Passion roared in her ears, as the goddess fought to resist the sensual words of her lover in her ear. It was challenging trying to hold back such intense feelings. She'd heard rumors and legends about the fallen angel's charm, but the legend always seemed bigger than the reality. But ultimately, she relented; allowing him into her bed.

Laying underneath her lover, her chest heaved with every breath. Encircling her arms around his neck, she knew; she'd either regret this or come enjoy this as the greatest moments of her immortal life. And not just because of her lover, but also because the gift he'd given her.

She waited for his gift patiently, focusing only on the time she spent with him. His words, the romance, the pleasure they shared. It all felt euphoric, like the greatest dream that never came true. It was only them two; she wasn't the humble goddess who was content in the background and he wasn't the lying angel took vengeance on his father.

They were simply two flames, dancing, intertwining.

And from the union of those flames came a third. Gentle and alluring like its mother but scorching and destructive like its father.

* * *

 **I've been out of commission because some mild depression. I will return to the Seven-Tailed Fox one day, but the passion of focusing solely on it isn't there, I will finish it just not right. This idea's been rattling around my brain for a minute and wouldn't go away, so I decided... why not?**

 **Word of caution, this will not always coincide with the religious beliefs of some viewers. This story will be inspired of Judeo-Christian-Islamic faiths and mythologies, its in no way something to mock, make fun of, or bash anyone of these faiths/beliefs. This is only mythology, not religion, religious practices, or religious persons. So if you see something that makes you feel some kind of way... ignore it, move on, and/or don't say anything about it. Constructive criticism is welcomed, just no flames.**

 **Review and comment...**


	2. Chapter 2

**1:07 AM  
Olympian Throne Room**

Within the great throne room of Olympus, Zeus glared hatefully. The entire Olympian council was in attendance, including Hades. Everyone watched the lord of sky warily. It didn't need to be said that the king of Olympus was on the verge of lashing out anything in sight.

The only one who courage was the oldest brother. "Brother," Hades sighed irritatingly, "either have a stroke or spit it out. I have better things to do than to watch you throw a temper tantrum."

Zeus didn't show any signs of yielding, in fact he showed no signs at all. It was like Hades's words had no affect at all. Which said a lot since the sons of Rhea were as dysfunctional as—or more—the rest of their family.

"Sister!" Zeus roaring made a few of the council rub their ears in irritation.

The last to attend was eldest of the children of Rhea; Hestia. From the hearth in the middle of the room, a woman appeared rising to her feet.

Hestia was beautiful, in a modest and unpretentious way. She wore modest black dress flowing to her feet. A red shawl was wrapped around her shoulders while her honey brown hair flowed to her waist in waves. Her eyes were the same color as her shawl; a bright, candy red. While she was breathtaking, her beauty was smaller in comparison to her sisters.

Hestia bowed her head, "My lord…"

Zeus could only direct his electric glare to his oldest sister, which made the rest of the council wary. "Someone has made a grievous offense to us and this family."

"Father, your bolt has been stolen, we've already been over this," Dionysus sighed with bored expression.

"But the thief hasn't been addressed," the god of skies did nothing but snap his fingers, an image shimmered in the air above the hearth.

It was an image of the Queens, New York. Black clouds filled the skies with rain pouring from them in a light drizzle. Thunder sounded overhead with lightning flashing in the distance. Snow littered across the city, adding to cold and dark environment.

A figure sat atop one of the apartment complexes sitting on a chair next to a trashcan. The trashcan was filled with flames, warming the individual. It was young boy, no older than thirteen. He wore a trench coat, with black jeans and boots. He had earbuds tucked in his ears.

What made the council lean in their thrones was his face. Messy, honey brown hair that looked like it couldn't be tamed. The same sharp features as Hestia; angular jaw, prominent cheekbones. The eyes were an orange amber with flecks of gold here and there. Tanned coppery skin that looked golden in the firelight.

The boy stuck his hand in the fire; no pain, no burning. The flames did nothing to the child. The boy's eyes shifted to the same color as Hestia's eyes; a ruby red. Suddenly, the flames roared and burned larger and brighter. Retracting his hand, smoke curled from his hand. With every breath, the boy's nostrils had smoke curl from them.

The boy's face said it all: this Hestia's child, her son.

The image faded, leaving only a silence. Slowly, all eyes were directed to hearth goddess. Hestia could feel the judgmental stares, but regardless she kept her head held high.

The throne room erupted into chaos. Everyone tried to voice their opinions on the matter. No one could get a word in with being interrupted by another. The only silent ones were Zeus and Hades; the former had his gaze directed the one in question while the latter contemplated the existence of what the child was. Both who knew of the boy's existence.

"SILENCE!" Everyone turned—stunned—toward Hera. Usually it was Zeus who had the intimidating voice to quiet the council.

Hera looked at her sister, "Before we discuss this matter any further I believe we should know of the one that has fathered of this atrocity."

Everyone nodded, they could all tell that the child didn't have any mortal ties. The son of Hestia wasn't a demigod.

Hestia looked around at her family, feeling like a cornered animal. Feeling defeat, Hestia's shoulders sank looking at her youngest sister, "Iblis. The father is Iblis."

Thunder and lightning flooded the skies, but this wasn't Zeus's lightning to call upon.

"Iblis," Artemis remarked, "the angel."

"The fallen archangel," Demeter corrected.

"This boy," Hephaestus corrected himself, "this thing, the progeny of a goddess and an archangel."

Apollo's hair turned to flames at this point, "Its an abomination and must be exterminated! Hermes, find and bring it—"

"Silence, you fool!" Athena admonished her brother. Everyone turned to the wisdom goddess, eager to hear her words.

"Destroying the boy would surely bring more trouble to Olympus's gates than dispelling them." Athena chastised the sun goddess. "Iblis is a powerful character, none too powerful for the ranks of Olympus. But with rising of the Titans—we don't need another enemy to add to the list."

Zeus thought on Athena's words, "Indeed. But this does not change the fact that this thing has stolen from me. An act I find dangerously offensive."

Hestia couldn't believe what she was hearing. While she knew she was in the wrong, she couldn't understand why her brother would want to punish her son when he knew nothing of his heritage.

"Brother, I understand breaking my vow was wrong, but this is unnecessary. Perseus knows only of the relationship between him and his father. I've been watching him since he was babe, he's had no contact with Olympus let alone knows of our existence. He isn't the thief you're looking for, I swear by Styx's waters."

Thunder rumbled, signifying the truth in Hestia's words. Zeus's hands looked like they were about to crush the marble armrests of his throne. Through gritted teeth he spoke, "It seems this atrocity isn't the coward to steal from me."

Hestia felt relief for her blood, before Zeus elaborated. "But this changes nothing. This abomination exists, it is here! And we can't—we won't—allow it to run amok without insurance."

"Perhaps a wager," Demeter suggested. She elaborated when Zeus gave her a demanding look, "He shall retrieve your master bolt and bring it to you."

Hera continued for Demeter, "If he refuses or fails, his life shall be his recompense. He has the potential of becoming an ally to the ranks of Olympus, think of this as his test."

Zeus looked stubborn, his mind weighing the pros and cons of this situation.

"Brother," Demeter called out, "allow Hestia this. Her vow was broken, she will be punished justly for that. But surely carrying out an execution before a proper trial is beneath you."

Sighing through his nostrils, Zeus relented. "I concede, only on a few stipulations. Artemis, you will send your maidens to track and oversee it. If they see anything I don't like, they are to bring it to Olympus for its death. No god, Olympian or minor, shall interfere in this undertaking."

Artemis nodded stiffly before disappearing in a flash of light.

Zeus turned to Hestia who averted his gaze. "You are my favorite sibling, so you're broken vow will be pardoned. But if something like this is to happen again…"

The lord of Olympus allowed his cryptic threat sink in before disappearing in a bolt of lightning. One by one the Olympian council disappeared, leaving only the hearth goddess and her two sisters behind.

Hestia looked gratefully towards Demeter and Hera, "Sisters, you have my thanks."

"You are our most favorited out of all our kin," Hera waved her hand dismissively.

Demeter nodded, "Just hope your blood has the skill to retrieve our brother's toy. Or your boy will know life for a short period of time."

Hestia was left alone in the throne room when her sisters disappeared as well. There wasn't a lot she could for her son. Silently, she prayed to mother of the gods, Rhea, asking for her to send wisdom and guidance to her firstborn.


	3. Chapter 3

**May 31**  
 **06:35 AM**

Gold eyes opened groggily. Perseus 'Percy' Jackson ruffled his messy brown into a rat's nest. The boy slept in a modest apartment, but it was only temporary, for a few weeks. His 'guardians' had told him about the importance of always staying on the move. Being several steps ahead of djinn or shiyateen that decided to challenge him.

Sharp fangs showed when he yawned. Putting on a black t-shirt, a long, wiry tail with a wispy tuft wrapped around his torso under his shirt. In minutes, he dressed in his black jeans and black trench coat. Careful to conceal the long, thin antennae-like horns sticking from his forehead, he pulled up his hood after slicking his horns into his hair down his shirt. Allowing only his eyes and jaw to be seen.

With his attire donned, he scaled the apartment complex to the roof—which would terrify most mortals, but Percy wasn't like most mortals.

He crouched on the ledge of the building, overlooking the dawn of the city.

Suddenly, he leapt at least thirty feet in the air when a tornado of fireless smoke erupted where he stood.

Holding out a hand with, a modern, tactical scimitar appeared in his hand. His movements were fierce as they were quick when he started slashing through the gusts of smoke the tornado shot at him.

In a burst of speed, Percy slashed through the smoky tornado. The tornado died in a windy explosion. The wind forced the smoke back together before it eventually took the shape of two figures, both tall.

One was extremely tall, like he couldn't walk through doorways because he'd hit his head coming through. He had black hair with brown eyes and copper skin. He wore a jacket over his torso while the lower half of his body was a black-feathered bird.

The other was female; tall, beautiful, short honey blonde hair, and light brown eyes. She had the lower half of a tawny-furred dog with a coat around her shoulders.

"Well done, Percy," the female addressed him with a smile.

Percy's scimitar materialized away. "Adham. Haifa."

Adham and Haifa had been Percy's 'guardians' since… forever. They were djinni that raised, taught, and trained him. Adham had been always his mentor and teacher, while Haifa was the older sister and sometimes mother figure. He knew them so long he couldn't recount a memory without them in it or being involved.

When he was younger, Percy thought that they were his siblings or parents. But sitting him down, they explained that they were djinni and he was not. That he was shaiyateen, one of the children of Iblis. But when asked about his mother, the question was averted.

"What was that?" Percy demanded. Percy wasn't used to such easy training methods, especially from Adham. Adham liked to push him to his breaking point, something that wasn't enjoyable.

Adham replied, "We can up the intensity if you'd like—"

"We were gauging your reaction time," Haifa interrupted, trying to spare her friend some new broken bones.

"Why?" Percy tilted his head, "You've never tried to test my instincts before."

Haifa cleared her throat, "We're just trying to see if your skills are competent."

Percy eyed the djinni suspiciously. "What for?"

Haifa's eyes avoided her adoptive brother for a moment. "Look, don't worry about it."

"Alright." Percy knew they were both lying. Since Haifa and Adham were djinni they were thousands of years old, they've learned the art of deception. But every now and then they'd slip up and he'd see through the cracks of their lies.

That day, Percy's senses were screaming at him. He'd felt like someone was watching him. Turning around, he'd smell the scent pine needles, but no one was there.

It didn't take a genius to know someone or something was stalking him. His eyes glowed crimson as the inner animal within was ready to pounce on anything that showed its ugly face.

* * *

Hestia sat the hearth within her temple. A small smile played on her red lips when she watched her son through the flames. She always loved watching him from afar, but there'll always be small sadness that she'll never get to meet him, raise him, or love him like a true mother should.

The hearth's smoke grew, rising into the air. It shifted into two forms; Adham and Haifa. From the waist down their bodies were smoke connecting to the goddess's hearth.

"My lady," both djinni bowed to the mistress of the temple, their mistress.

Hestia stood, "You've done well training Perseus. He grows stronger by the day. You have my thanks."

"Its been a pleasure being apart of Perseus's life." Haifa nodded.

"Is it true," Adham questioned, "Perseus is to retrieve your brother's symbol of power?"

Hestia tiredly, "It is true. My sisters have bargained with Lord Zeus."

Haifa gained a look of melancholy. "Perseus will encounter trials and challenges."

"We've trained him well," Adham assured Haifa, "the challenges he will face will only strengthen him."

Hestia agreed with a nod of her head. "I believe you both know Perseus is to complete this quest on his own, without any outside help."

Adham nodded stiffly while Haifa looked worried but agreed regardless.

Hestia was quiet, a goblet of wine and nectar materialized in her hand before taking a sip. "Has Iblis contacted Perseus?"

"No, my lady," Haifa sighed, "Lord Iblis has been quiet since Perseus's birth."

"Even through you two?"

Adham shook his head, "Yes, to make matters worse, Perseus has been reckless; his curiosity about his origins increases by the hour."

"Lady Hestia," Haifa implored, "Perseus isn't demigod, you still could've been in his life."

Hestia's face took on thoughtful look, she whispered wistfully, "I could've been the mother I should've been. The mother he needed, Perseus's mother. But instead I'll be remembered as the woman that sired him."

"It isn't too late, my lady," Adham said hastily, "Perseus yearns for the mother he never had."

Hestia's empty goblet refilled magically. "No. Despite his young age, he is growing into his own man, he doesn't need me."

"You may believe that," Adham confessed, "but we don't. Perseus will live for millennia and he will still call for you."

With that final word, the djinni disappeared in smoky mist. Hestia sat, watching the flames and drinking her wine. She smiled before wiping a stray tear from her cheek.

* * *

 **Review and comment...**


End file.
